12 days of Christmas
by weestarmeggie
Summary: Tom Hates Christmas. Hermione is determined to make him fall in love with her favourite holiday. AU, pure FLUFF like seriously your teeth will rot.


"You do know it's still November, right?"

Hermione turned, smiling at the sight of her boyfriend leaning against the doorframe of their living room.

"I know" she mumbled, turning back to continue hanging the decorations on their first ever joint Christmas tree. This was their first Christmas together outside of Hogwarts and Hermione was determined to make it the best one ever – she'd make it Tom's favourite holiday too, even if it killed her.

"So why, may I ask does it look like the Christmas section of Debenhams in here, if you know it's still November?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his head into the nape of her neck.

Hermione sighed, enjoying the feel of him against her, knowing that he was enjoying it just as much, "I love Christmas."

"I love you."

Hermione smirked, "I know. Which is why you're not going to complain about helping me finish decorating this tree."

* * *

On the first day of Christmas, as Tom would to refer to it over the years, he arrived home from work on a dreary Wednesday evening to find Hermione, still dressed in the navy-blue dress she'd worn to work, elbow deep in a bowl of dough with flour all over her face and the kitchen. He had to suppress a laugh at how ridiculous she looked with her face scrunched up in concentration and bits of flour dough sticking to her hair, which she'd pulled into a bun on the top of her head in an obvious effort to keep it out of the way. Even though she could do magic without thinking, she still preferred to do most cooking the muggle way.

He stood in the doorway, just out of her sight, for a few minutes and appreciated the view. He loved her more than anything – would do anything for her, his actions over the past few years had no doubt proved that but he still couldn't believe that she was his.

Their relationship at Hogwarts had been non-existent until sixth year. Being in different houses didn't encourage any sort of friendship between them until they ended up in all the same N.E.W.T electives and she was separated from the bumbling duo of Potter and Weasley – Tom shivered in horror, an involuntary sigh escaping him, at what might have been if either of them had been smart enough to join her.

Hermione looked up at the sound and smiled brightly at him before making her way towards him.

"Don't you dare! You look like a bloody ragamuffin with all that flour covering you" he said and Hermione pouted, her lips curving into a smile as she skipped the last few feet between them and jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms wound their way round his neck while his hands rested on the curve of her ass.

"You're late."

Tom nodded, walking them towards the kitchen table so he could set her upon it and pick the flour from her hair without dropping her. "Malfoy and I had a last-minute meeting with a client. Ended up taking much longer than it needed to" he murmured as he scourgified her skin and began to place open mouthed kisses, occasionally nipping the skin, along her neck. He smirked when he heard her moan.

"Tommmm" she groaned attempting to push him away, "I'm baking."

"Fuck baking" he growled in her ear, lifting her from the table and stumbling out of the kitchen with her still wrapped around him.

* * *

On the second day of Christmas, Hermione showed up at Tom's office ten minutes early practically bouncing and he'd stared at her in mild horror when she'd told him he was taking the rest of the day off to wander through muggle London with her, visiting the Christmas markets.

Still as they made their way through the crowds' hand in hand, Tom couldn't help but smile at how happy Hermione was, how much she was enjoying herself. She loved it all – the lights, the atmosphere, the people, all the little handmade items they spotted at various stalls. She'd even purchased an onyx snake figure for him and even though he'd rolled his eyes at the gesture he had allowed himself a small smile when he was sure she wasn't looking.

They'd had snacks from various stalls and shared a chocolate crepe for dessert before Tom had pulled Hermione into a dark alley and apparated them home to their flat where they'd promptly passed out on the sofa, Hermione sprawled across Tom.

* * *

The third, fourth and fifth days of Christmas were all similar in that Hermione dragged him, with a scowl on his face, around various markets and shops, with their garish Christmas decorations and loud music. They always got home, late in the evening, weighed down by various shopping bags filled with gifts for all their idiotic friends and Tom would always, always, appreciate the sight of their simple little tree in the corner of the room with its white lights and tasteful decorations – not a drop of tinsel in sight.

* * *

On the sixth day of Christmas, a Sunday, Tom woke up to the sound of retching. He stretched his arm across the bed in the hope of pulling Hermione closer to him, but instead found the bed cold and empty. His eyes opened and realisation dawned upon him that the violent sound that woke him must have been coming from her. He stumbled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom where he found her in only one of his t-shirts knelt on the floor beside the toilet, tears streaking her unusually pale face.

"Fuck" he muttered making his way towards her and gathering her hair up in his hand as she resumed vomiting. "You ok?" He murmured, rubbing a hand up and down her back, his thumb tracing circles as it did. Hermione nodded, flushed the toilet and stood, walking to the sink. She grimaced at the sight she saw and pulled her hair into a bun as she ran the hot water and washed her face before brushing her teeth to get the taste of acid from her mouth. She'd forgotten Tom was still in the room with her and when she turned and saw him standing with his brow furrowed in confusion, arms crossed across his bare chest and his pyjama pants hanging low across his hips, she felt that familiar flare of heat that usually resulted in her knickers being ruined. Unfortunately, this morning it coincided with another roll of her stomach and she barely made it back to the toilet before she was throwing up again, her boyfriend right behind her, comforting her.

* * *

They ended up on the sofa, their bed duvet draped over them as Tom spooned her from behind, when she'd finally found the strength to leave the bathroom.

"What do you want to do?"

Hermione didn't bother opening her eyes, and simply shrugged. She had no interest in doing anything other than spending the entire day, possibly the rest of her life, wrapped in his arms like a butterfly in a cocoon.

"Want me to stick a movie on?" He asked and she lifted her eyes to meet his. Tom hated the tv – the only reason they had one was so that when her parents came to visit they wouldn't comment on it, that and well Hermione had lived as a muggle for eleven years, she still had a penchant for trashy tv after a bad day.

"What kind of movie?" She murmured. Tom looked across the room for a moment before he looked down at her.

"A Christmas one?"

Hermione nodded and hid her grin – slowly but surely, she thought.

* * *

The seventh, eighth and ninth days of Christmas were quiet. They wrote Christmas cards, wrapped presents and watched a few more Christmas movies. Tom found himself eager to leave his dull office at the ministry, meet her in the atrium and apparate home together. The sight of the large, extravagant and gaudy tree that decorated the ministry made him feel ill and reminded him too much of the fake Christmas' he was forced to spend with his father in their family home when he was younger. There was no love between them – Tom Riddle Sr. vehemently blamed his son for his wife's, Merope's, death and Tom had never been able to convince the older man otherwise – he sometimes wondered if the fact Christmas was so close to the anniversary of her death, that his father hated the holiday so much. When he'd turned fifteen he'd stayed at Hogwarts and promised himself he'd never force himself to do something he hated for someone else.

But the Christmas' he'd had at Hogwarts with Hermione and this one were different and he wondered if it was because he no longer cared only about himself – he was more concerned with making her happy, making sure she enjoyed her favourite holiday.

* * *

Tom was pretty sure, Hermione always thought he had ruined the tenth day of Christmas.

"You promised!" Hermione exclaimed as she took in the sight of Tom still dressed in his pyjamas while she was suited and booted, literally, to go ice-skating in Hyde Park with Harry, Draco, Ginny, Blaise, Theo and Daphne.

Tom looked up from the paper and shrugged, not meeting Hermione's eyes as she stared at him. He could see the tears in her eyes and felt, for a moment, how disappointed she was but pushed on – he had his own plans for the day and he needed her out of the way for a few hours. Even if she did hate him for a few hours as a result.

"I did know such thing. You told me what the plans were but I, under no circumstances" he sneered, returning his gaze to the paper, "agreed to go with you."

Hermione stared at him and felt her magic react to her dangerous mood, flaring and threatening to lash out.

"So, you're just going to make me go on my own?" She whispered in disbelief. Tom shook his head and Hermione thought for a second, he was going to change his mind.

"You've never let anyone make you do anything love. I doubt you're going to start today." He'd barely finished speaking when he heard the front door slam and he sighed heavily.

* * *

"She's so fucking pissed!"

Tom looked up and scowled at the sight of his best friend standing with a second glass of fire whiskey for him.

"I know" he murmured, frowning and taking the shot, "I didn't think she would take it that badly. It's only ice-skating."

Draco smirked and took a sip of his own drink, "It is Granger." Tom nodded.

"Did you bring it?" He asked looking around to check that there wasn't anyone around to recognise them as Draco slid a package as surreptitiously as he could. "Thanks. How did you convince Potter to go with you to get it?"

Draco smirked and Tom rolled his eyes, "Never mind."

* * *

On the eleventh day of Christmas, Christmas eve and the day after the ice- skating debacle, Hermione woke up in bed alone, still wearing the t-shirt of Tom's she'd worn yesterday. The smell of bacon and the sound of Christmas music softly playing through the flat made her sit up and frown in confusion as she rubbed her temples with two fingers. She'd returned home last night to find the flat empty and proceeded to drink an entire bottle of red wine before crying herself to sleep in their empty bed. She was interrupted from thinking about it anymore by the sight of Tom in their doorway, a tray of breakfast in his hands and a sheepish smile on his face.

"Hey" he muttered, taking a tentative step towards her. Hermione didn't move and didn't let her eyes follow him as he crossed the room towards her, staring resolutely at the wall. She felt the bed dip behind her and his stubble against her shoulder as he placed a chaste kiss there. "I'm Sorry."

Hermione hummed and let him pull her into his embrace as he continued.

"I was an arse."

She smirked a little and snatched a slice of bacon from the plate, "And?"

"And I made you breakfast and I love you and we're finished work for a fortnight and I thought we could watch Home Alone again, and I'm sorry?" He murmured into her neck.

Hermione smiled – he really was sorry if he was making her breakfast and offering to stay in and watch another Christmas film with her – maybe she would give him the present she'd planned for him to unwrap last night tonight instead.

* * *

"Hermione? Love? Where are you?" Tom called as he made his way down the hallway to their bedroom. Hermione had gotten up twenty minutes ago and not returned and he'd grown impatient in waiting for her.

Tom gulped when he stepped into their bedroom and found his girlfriend wearing nothing but a large green bow that covered only her breasts and her cunt and a pair of black heels. He felt his dick, that had been half hard all night, pressed up against her backside as they'd spooned on the couch, spring to life. Hermione stood from the bed and twirled, her hair flowing with her, a coquettish smile on her face.

"You like?" She whispered then yelped as Tom threw himself across the room and pinned her to the bed, his left hand crushing her wrists above her head as his right skimmed the ribbon until it rested on the bow. He looked up at his girlfriend and watched her eyes widen as he pulled the bow apart and the ribbon fell from her body – she bit her lip.

"Fuck" Tom growled as he moved his mouth and took a nipple in it, rolling it between his teeth and nipping on it, even as he still held her down – her back arched.

"Yessss" Hermione hissed as his free hand found its way to rest against her cunt, the palm of it rubbing furiously against her clit, "fuck, Merlin, please Tom" she cried, thrashing against him, trying to reach the ledge he already had her dangling from. He let her nipple pop from his mouth and swiftly moved down her body, his mouth replacing his hand on her cunt. He sucked hard on her clit and her hands wound themselves into his hair as she held his face between her legs and came with a cry, his name falling from her lips repeatedly.

When she opened her eyes, she saw him standing over her, working his hand over the head of his impossibly hard cock, as he watched her come down. She growled, he smirked and she pounced on him, shoving him onto the bed and sliding down his shaft as she knelt over him and proceeded to give him as good an orgasm as the one she'd just received.

"Fuck baby slow down" he hissed as he nipped at her neck and gripped her hips in an attempt to get her to hasten her quick movements. He was way too close and she felt so good, he knew he wouldn't last more than a few minutes.

"Fuck no" Hermione snarled and moved faster, her cunt sliding up his dick till only the head remained before slamming down again. Tom felt his breath leave his mouth in a hiss and reached between them to pinch her clit, because fuck her if she thought she could get away with making him cum this quickly and not having another orgasm of her own.

She whimpered when she felt him do it and her cunt clenched him deep inside her as they both fell over the edge together, his mouth biting down hard on her tit as she slowed down and slumped against his taut body, his cock still pulsing inside her. He brought his mouth up to hers and gently kissed her, their tongues laving over the bite marks they'd made on each other's lips.

"Happy Christmas" he murmured into her mouth on the twelfth day of Christmas.

* * *

"Do you want your present now or in the morning?" Hermione asked sleepily, as Tom trailed a finger over the curve of her hip repeatedly, his eyes never leaving hers as he did – he swallowed.

"Depends. Do you want yours now or in the morning?" He asked meeting her gaze.

Hermione's eyes widened, "you got me something?"

Tom only nodded and reached behind him into his bedside table to pull a wrapped box out. Hermione took the chance to sit up and pull the blankets up around herself, pulling her own present for him out of her bedside table. They sat looking at each other, small smiles on their faces before Hermione leaned over and kissed him chastely on the lips, swapping the presents as she did.

For a moment there was only the sound of wrapping paper being torn, as the two of them unwrapped their gifts before there was complete silence. Hermione raised her tear-filled eyes to meet his and they both rasped out a "really?" at the same time.

Hermione laughed and slipped her grandmother's engagement ring onto her finger, before climbing into Tom's lap as he stared at the sonogram of their baby she'd framed for him, his fingers tracing the outline of it.

"Yeah" they both whispered together, again, and neither of them could stop laughing as Tom clutched her tightly in his arms.

"I love you" she murmured, tears streaming down her face as she clasped his face in her hands and kissed him.

"I love Christmas" he murmured back, his hand coming to rest on her still, for the moment, flat stomach.


End file.
